


Room 89: Sex

by Salambo06



Series: Sex toy series [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Declaration of Love, Fingering, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Masturbation, Mind Palace, Pining, Series 1, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Sherlock discovers sex, Virgin Sherlock, dildo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 09:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7635379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salambo06/pseuds/Salambo06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock buys his first dildo nineteen days after John moves in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cover

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Room 89: Sex](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8781100) by [R13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/R13/pseuds/R13)



> Thank you to [Heather](http://snogbox1.tumblr.com/) for her job as a beta !  
> [My Tumblr](http://johnlockfulfillment.tumblr.com/)  
> 

Amazing cover by [justacookieofacumberbatch](http://justacookieofacumberbatch.tumblr.com/), thank you so much <3


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock buys his first dildo nineteen days after John moves in.

He acts on an impulse. The streets of London are silent at this time of night and the shop he chooses is empty. The owner greets him with a nod and then proceeds to ignore him entirely.

Sherlock has no idea what he's looking for but he stares at the different toys on the shelf and grabs the one he can't seem to stop looking at.

He can still feel the tremor of panic running through his veins. Panic because of John’s flirting attitude that first night at Angelo's. Panic because of his pounding heart and dry throat back then. Panic at the realisation that he had absolutely zero experience to fulfill John's expectation. 

The dildo is thick and somewhat heavy in Sherlock’s hand. He hides it where John or the Yard would never think of looking and goes to bed.

The flat is quiet but Sherlock doesn't sleep.

 

**

**Room 89: sex**

 

_North wall - sexual experience_

  * Four kisses, all of them because of cases. **Result** : wet, indifferent, no apparent appeal.
  * Dirty talk: in the only purpose of comparing a suspect’s paraphrasing to the one the victim had described. **Results** : one shiver at the man’s breath against my skin, words too detailed, no apparent appeal.
  * Masturbation: too many distractions, experience proven inconclusive.



**Overall** : sexual experience - none.

_East wall - sexual attraction (relevant examples only)_

    * Age 14, penis erect upon waking. Do not recall my dream. Dealt with said erection in the shower.
    * Age 16, heartbeat elevated and throat dry when Subject. A was pressed against my back during PE class. All signs fade away within 45 seconds after the contact was broken.
    * Age 23, first signs of arousal inside a club. Data biased due to drugs.
    * Age 26, penis erect upon waking. Dreamed of another man (signs of sexual orientation? Need to investigate further). Dealt with said erection in the shower and deleted all memory of the dream.
    * Age 30, aroused while on a case. Most likely due to the officer’s advanced flirting, his hand brushed my thigh and groin. My body reacted on his own. Managed to will away my arousal within 23 seconds.
    * Age 33, John (will need a bigger room). 



**Overall** : sexual attraction - only to men, rare (until John).

_West wall - research (only facts relevant to cases)._

  * Approximate age for first sexual encounter among the London population: 17 years old.
  * List of the most common STD’s: Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, Syphilis, Herpes, Trichomoniasis, HIV/AIDS.



**Overall** : further research to be conducted.

 _South wall - sexual fantasies_.

  * John (will need a bigger room).



**Overall** : may need a second room about sex, only focused on John.

**

Sherlock doesn't think about the dildo for an entire week.

John is still getting used to the flat, and Sherlock is slowly accepting the way John seems to upset his entire world. He locks himself in his mind palace for hours, going through John’s routine, his habits or the variation of his voice and his body language at different moments of the day. Sherlock catalogues everything, to the last detail, and wonders if he will ever have the time to learn all there is to know about John Watson.

“I’m going out,” John calls from the door, already putting on his coat, “Just going to the shop.”

Sherlock doesn’t answer and hears John chuckle softly before he’s gone, leaving the flat quiet and somehow, just a little less warmer. Sherlock rolls his eyes, sighing. The situation is getting out of control. John had shown no sign of flirting with him since that first diner, but Sherlock hadn’t been able to think about anything else ever since. He knows all too well how sex works, despite his complete lack of experience in the matter. He’s seen what sex has made people do, what it has turned them into, and he has long decided he didn’t need it.

But then, Sherlock had never planned to meet John Watson.

Getting to his feet quickly, Sherlock heads for his bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him. He has waited too long already, and it is better to get rid of this as soon as he can. He needs to be ready, to be prepared for the next time John decides to give them a chance. Grabbing his computer, Sherlock settles on his bed and opens a new tab. His fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment before he begins to type his search.

 _First time male penetration_.

Sherlock rules out the first two websites, and proceeds to delete entirely the third one (too many pictures), but the fourth link happens to be very instructive. _Fingers first_ , Sherlock reads and feels himself blush as he realises he knew that all along. He gets lost in memories of his teenage years, of morning erections and tentative masturbation. _Too messy,_ he had thought at the time, the lack of stimulating fantasies making it hard to achieve orgasm. Once, he had tried to slide one finger inside him, and if the sensation hadn’t been _bad_ , Sherlock had felt weird and uncomfortable, and had decided it’ll be an experiment for another time.

Now, apparently.

Sherlock saves the article he’s reading, setting aside the computer before reaching for the bottle of lube the bedside drawer. The shop owner had given it to him as a gift to use with the dildo, and Sherlock takes the time to read the instructions written on the bottle. He remembers the few lines about it in the article, _there is never too much lube_. Sherlock frowns, opens the bottle and brings it to his nose. The smell is neutral, almost clinical, and with a finger, he brings some to his mouth. Tastes the same as it smells, Sherlock thinks before placing the bottle next to him.

He’s not aroused yet, but today’s experiment doesn’t require him to be erect. He only wants to get used to the feeling of one finger inside him, and let his body relax at the intrusion. He could work more fingers in another day. John isn’t going to want to have sex with him in the next week, obviously. Still, Sherlock feels his heart beat just a little faster and he exhales loudly, a shiver running up and down his spine. Sherlock opens his trousers quickly and slides them down his legs, followed by his pants, and once naked from the waist down, he reaches for the bottle again.

He pours a fair amount of lube on two fingers, and the sudden cold surprises him. He rubs the liquid between his fingers for a few seconds before it warms up. Once he’s satisfied, Sherlock spreads his legs and lets one finger trace the outline of his thigh, pelvis and perineum before slipping between his arse cheeks. He shivers again and looks down, moving his penis to the right so he can watch as his finger disappearing lower. The first touch against his arse hole makes his entire body shiver, and Sherlock makes sure to catalogue the reaction in room 89 before starting to rub his finger slowly.

After the sixth one, Sherlock stops counting the shivers rushing over him every time he pushes his finger in just a little. He quickly adds some more lube, feeling the first tremor of arousal low in his belly, and he closes his eyes, resting his head on the pillow as he breathes out slowly. His finger is warm, and soon, Sherlock feels the muscles of his arsehole start to relax more and more. Propping himself on one elbow, Sherlock spreads his legs wider and pushes in.

“Oh.”

The sensation isn’t as strange as he remembered, and when his first knuckle passes the tight muscle, he stops. Sherlock stares down at himself, and wishes he had filmed the experiment. He can’t properly see, and can only trust his own reactions. When he feels himself relax again, Sherlock continues to push his finger in until it’s completely inside him. He remains still for long second, his penis half erect now. He’s too hot, and sweat is pearling on his thighs. Slowly, gently, Sherlock moves his finger inside him. He jumps in surprise when he hits a bundle of nerves, and for a moment thinks he has found his prostate, but seconds later, the tip of his finger brushes another sensitive spot and this time his entire body arches on the bed, his finger sliding out of him.

“Hmmm.”

Sherlock is panting when he opens back up his eyes, and waves of pleasure are still rolling over him when he adds more lube on his finger. When he pushes it back inside him, he feels no resistance at all, and for a moment, Sherlock doesn’t dare to look for his prostate again. His penis is fully erect now, straining against his shirt, and Sherlock can even discern beads of precome pearling at the tip. Tentatively, he pulls his finger out, not entirely, before sliding back in. Biting down on his lip, he begins to thrust his finger in and out, careful not to touch his prostate.

Sherlock is feeling the first urges to take himself in hand when he hears the front door opening and closing quickly, followed by John’s footsteps. He removes his fingers quickly, and in a ridiculous attempt to hide himself, pulls the covers above him.

“Sherlock,” John asks, just behind the door, “You’re here?”

“Yes,” Sherlock replies, still slightly out of breath.

“Just going to pop into the shower, and then I’ll make dinner,” John says, “You’ll eat tonight?”

Sherlock swallows with difficulty, “Yes.”

He can hear John’s smile when he says “Good,” and then the bathroom door closing. Sherlock’s eyes go to the adjoining door inside his bedroom but it is closed too, and he sighs in relief. He listens for a few moments as John undresses, steps into the shower and turns the water on. He lies back on the bed, his penis still erect and his finger wet with lube. He considers stopping the experiment now, but the building desire inside him is still burning, and before he can think twice about it, he’s pouring more lube on his finger and pushing it back inside him.

He can still hear the water running, and if he focuses enough, the sound of John washing himself. The mere fact of having a finger inside himself while John is in the next room makes his arousal grow, makes him eager for more, Sherlock allows himself to rub against his prostate once more. He has to bite down on his other hand as his finger hits it again and again, his hips now thrusting back on his finger and soon Sherlock has to muffle his moans in the pillow, his free hand now closed around his erection. He strokes himself too fast, his movements awkward and his fingers thrusting inside him quicker.

Sherlock has never felt so lost before. He can’t think properly, can’t seem to be able to focus on anything else but the burning desire inside him, and can’t help but picture John’s body under the shower stream. Naked, wet, beautiful.

Sherlock comes without warning, his entire body arching on the bed and his head pressed into the pillow, his neck twisted to the point of hurting. He feels his body contract around his finger, and semen lands over his hand and shirt, but most of all, Sherlock feels like he’s imploding. He’s not sure how many minutes pass between the moment of his orgasm and John calling his name again, but Sherlock is still breathless with his finger deep inside him.

“Sherlock,” John calls again, “Dinner in fifteen minutes, ok?”

Sherlock doesn’t respond, not trusting his voice at the moment, but John doesn’t push and walks away. It takes another three minutes for Sherlock to regain some composure and pull his finger out. He tentatively contracts his arsehole and finds himself feeling strangely empty. When sleep threatens to take over him, Sherlock forces himself up and into the bathroom.

**

**Room 89b - sex and John.**

_North wall - facts._

John masturbates often.

  * First noticed, two days after moving in. Took seven minutes longer than usual inside the shower. Came out with blushed cheeks and avoided eye contact for three minutes.
  * The shower seems to be a convenient time and place. No trace, often in the mornings.
  * Twelve days after moving in, John woke up in the middle of the night and masturbated upon waking. I only heard the mattress and the final growl as he climaxed. John avoided eye contact the entire morning afterward.



**Hypothesis:** ashamed at the act?

John watches porn.

  * First noticed, three hours after moving in. Hacked his computer and found the (not so well) hidden files. Seven different videos, all amateur, two of them featuring a gay couple.
  * John never asked if I found the videos.
  * Haven’t caught him watching any videos since he’d moved in.



**Hypothesis** : old videos he didn’t take the time to delete? Watched them while I’m out?

John likes sex.

  * __Rf two previous entry__
  * John has gone on two different dates, came back in the morning, never called the women again.
  * John flirts. A lot.



**Hypothesis** : John wouldn’t want a relationship without sex

**

Over the next few days, Sherlock grows more and more comfortable with his own fingers. He still doesn’t take out the dildo but goes to buy two more bottles of lube. He waits for John to go to the clinic, certain he won’t come back for another three hours at least, and then Sherlock proceeds to fill the North wall of Room 89 a bit more.

Which is why, exactly ten days after having fingered himself for the first time, Sherlock has three fingers buried inside him. He rocks them in and out teasingly slowly, the still-new burn of his arsehole being streched making him wince from time to time. He has the bottle of lube open next to him, and his head thrown back on the pillow as he lets the memories of John’s body pressed against his invade his mind. The suspect had taken them by surprise, the very small closet had been the only available hiding place at the moment. If Sherlock concentrates enough, he can still feel John’s penis, not erect of course, against the lower curve of his arse. Sherlock had lost track of the case for a few seconds, feeling himself become aroused, and it had taken all of his self control to remain still.

But now, Sherlock can let his imagination run free. He can imagine John pressing himself closer to him. He can imagine John thrusting against his arse. He can imagine John’s hand on his hips, keeping him close.

“Hmm,” Sherlock breathes, pushing his fingers deeper.

John is getting erect now, just because he’s rutting against him, and his erection is thick and hard against Sherlock’s arse. He’s kissing Sherlock’s nape, he’s whispering against his ear and sliding his hands over Sherlock’s own erection.

Sherlock moans loudly, all but fucking his fingers now, and he wonders how the dildo would feel inside him right now. He thinks about getting up and finding out but the thought of removing his fingers make him whimper. He can’t move, can’t do anything but let the fantasy take him over as push his finger against his prostate over and over again. It would be easier if John was here, if he was naked in Sherlock’s bed, erect and pulling Sherlock’s fingers out only to guide the heat of his erection against Sherlock’s arse and push in.

“Oh god,” Sherlock pants, thoughts of John fucking him filling his head.

He rocks back on his fingers, pushing them as deep as he can and freezes as he comes. He’s entirely naked today, and his semen reaches his nipples. He stares down at his hand between his legs, and continues to move his fingers in experimentally. Oversensitivity makes him wince, and he pulls them out. He rolls over onto his stomach, closes his eyes and tries to regulate his breathing.

John has been dating the same woman for two weeks. Sarah. Sherlock is certain they haven’t had sex yet, but he’s taking her to Scotland in two days. Sherlock shakes his head, pushing the thoughts away and gets up.

**

**Room 89b - sex and John**

_East wall - state of arousal around John._

At home.

  * When John comes out of the bathroom, wearing either a towel or his robe. State of arousal: 8 out of 10.
  * When John comes down for breakfast, hair ruffled, smiling lazily and sometimes the remnants of his morning erection still visible. State of arousal: 8.5 out of 10.
  * When John suddenly decides the flat needs cleaning and he goes to get the products under the sink. Preferable point of view: seated at the kitchen table. State of arousal: 9 out of 10.
  * When John declares we need to watch a movie and sits close on the sofa. The more points of contact, the more I find myself aroused. State of arousal: 9 out of 10.



At crime scenes (often inconvenient).

  * John leaning over a something (someone). State of arousal: 7 out of 10.
  * John taking my defense. State of arousal: 6 out of 10.
  * John running after a suspect. State of arousal: 8 out of 10.
  * John tackling a suspect. State of arousal: 9 out of 10.
  * John laughing, breathless, after a chase. State of arousal: 9.5 out of 10.



At random moments of the day.

  * John stepping closer to remove something in my hair, because it’s raining, because there’s no other choice (anything, everything, just John being close). State of arousal: varies between 6 and 8 out of 10.
  * Inside a cab, after a case. State of arousal: 9 out of 10.
  * At restaurant, smiling and dangerously close. State of arousal: 7 out of 10.



_Note: more to be added._

**

After that, it is only a matter of finding the right time for Sherlock to experiment with the dildo. He waits for John to leave with Sarah, sulking and refusing to say goodbye, but John still goes. Sherlock spends the first half of the day on the internet. He looks back for the article he had saved and continues his careful reading. Now, he understands the importance of lube, but the act in itself remains a mystery.

The dildo is resting on the bed beside him, and Sherlock glances back at it. Now that he knows the feeling of his own fingers inside him, he can’t help but wonder how different the dildo will feel. The one he had chosen is thick, pink and quite long. Sherlock feels his penis pulse inside his pants as he realises he’ll have no trouble finding his prostate. Forcing himself to look back at the screen, Sherlock reads the last few bits of advice from the article and closes the computer. He puts it aside, removes his clothes and sits back on the center of the bed. He needs to work himself open before he can take the dildo, but he finds himself already half erect when he lies down.

The first finger is easy now, but still, Sherlock feels the same anticipation when he pushes it inside. He pushes in and out for a few seconds before adding a second finger, breathing out loudly. It doesn’t hurt, not anymore, but Sherlock shifts his hips until it feels entirely good. He lets his free hand roam over his chest (he had discovered his sensitive nipples five days ago) and feels himself grow harder and harder. When he pushes a third finger in, Sherlock is fully erect and already panting. He refuses to touch himself yet.

The moment he reaches for the dildo, Sherlock realises he might be going too fast but he doesn’t care. Patience has never been his strongest virtue. He pours some lube directly on the toy, and then adds a little more directly against his arsehole. Remembering the article, he gets on his knees and braces one arm behind him, guiding the head of the dildo against his entrance. He rises himself higher on his knees and nudges the toy between his arse cheeks until he can feel it against his hole. Inhaling deeply, Sherlock bears down on the dildo.

“Hmmmm.”

His moan echoes in the entire room. The first breach burns, but the sensation isn’t new. He continues to thrust down slowly, taking the time to breathe properly, until he feels the hand holding the toy against his arse. He has the entire dildo inside him. Biting his lip, Sherlock rolls his hips and throws his head back when the toy brushes his prostate. He repeats the movement once more, and lets out a panting breath. It feels like so much more, so much bigger than his fingers, but so much better too.

Slowly he rises again, the dildo slipping out of him inch by inch, and he stops when just the head is still inside him. He remains still, letting his arousal build up before sliding back down. It takes another minute for his body to accept the new intrusion and then Sherlock is all but riding his dildo, thighs burning with the effort and his penis bouncing against his stomach with each thrust. He’s hitting his prostate with every thrust and the need to touch himself overwhelms him but only his free hand is keeping him up and steady. One, two, three more thrusts and then Sherlock falls on the mattress, the dildo slipping out of him.

He settles on his back, spreads his legs and pushes it back in. It takes few moments to find the right angle, but then Sherlock is pushing the toy in and out, stimulating his prostate every time, and his free hand is working hard and fast on his erection. Lying like this, his body and mind finally working in unison, Sherlock lets his fantasies take over.

_You look so gorgeous like this, Sherlock. Stretched open, working this cock inside you, begging for more._

“John, god.”

_If I were here, I would fuck you. First, I’d move your hand away and push that dildo in and out of you so very slowly until your entire body would be shaking with want. Then, I’d replace it with my cock, hard and aching to be inside you. You would feel so good, so very good._

Sherlock whimpers, the hand on his cock tugging faster, and he pushes back on the dildo with each thrust in. He cants his hips higher, pushing the toy deeper and comes with John’s name on his lips. He comes for several seconds, the dildo still buried inside him, and Sherlock only takes the time to pull it out before rolling to his side and falling asleep.

The next morning finds him sore but feeling strangely eager for more. Sherlock washes the toy carefully, takes a shower and leaves the flat in less than a hour. He has no trouble finding the same shop, and the owner once again greets him with only a nod. But this time, Sherlock knows what he wants, knows what he’s looking for, and without a second thought, he goes the to counter.

“Hello,” he says, and the man looks up at him, “Which dildos would you recommend in your shop?”

“Personal use?” The man asks, standing up and going around the counter.

“Obviously,” Sherlock replies.

The man smiles, “People often come here to purchase a gift, you know.”

Sherlock frowns, “Really?”

“Yes, most of the time it’s couples who want to spice things up, or friends wanting to make a funny gift.”

Sherlock nods, processing the new information as he follows the man to the right aisle.

“Already use one?” The man asks once they stop in front of the different dildos. Sherlock nods, pointing to the one he bought last time. “Alright, that’s a classic one, good for beginners actually. But we have a lot more, I can make a selection for you if you want.”

“Perfect.”

The man smiles again, reaching for one of the toys, “This one is also a classic, except it has the vibrating option. You only need to click this button, and let it work its magic.” Sherlock takes it. “Then, this one. As you can see, the veins are quite marked. It’s supposed to resemble a man’s cock as closely as possible.” Sherlock frowns as he takes it, and the man laughs, “I said “supposed”. If you really want one that comes close to reality, you only need to mold one. We do it here, if you bring the measurements.”

Sherlock thinks of Room 89b and the South wall, but decides he’ll need to come back later for that one.

“Then, you’ll definitely need this.” The man grabs a box, turning it around so Sherlock can see the picture on it. “It allows you to attach any dildo you own, and ride it more easily. A must have, if you ask me.”

Sherlock takes the box, “Brilliant.”

“That’s quite a selection you have there already. You can of course choose different shapes and sizes for each one.” Sherlock nods, looking back at the dildos on the shelf. “Take what you need, I’ll be right over there.”

Sherlock sticks with the ones the man had recommended, but also buys them all one size bigger, just in case. The man gives him advice for each one, Sherlock storing the info away in Room 89. As he walks back home, it occurs to Sherlock that this whole preparation might never come to an use.


	3. Chapter 3

**Room 89b - sex and John.**

_South wall - John’s penis._

Estimate measurements .

  * Based on the place it takes inside John’s pants and trousers when not erect: larger than average.
  * Based on the two different occasions I entered the bathroom when John was showering (once, erect): confirms a length and circumference larger than average. John’s hand covered about half of the erect length (didn’t have the time to gather more information).
  * Based on touch (all of them accidental): John has a tendency to point to the right, making it easier to guess the outline of his flaccid penis.



Feeling:

Unknown.

Taste:

Unknown.

**Overall (erect, estimation to mold a dildo): 5.7 length, 4.3 circumference.**

**

Two months and thirteen days later pass and despite the fact that John had stopped dating entirely, he shows no sign of getting closer to Sherlock. Still, Sherlock continues to experiment. He’s not certain he’s only doing it for scientific reasons anymore, the pleasure he experiences from the discovery of each new toy being the solid proof he’s enjoying this much more than anticipated. The walls of Room 89 and 89b are filling up with new data and notes every day, and Sherlock continues to carefully choose the moments of the day he can give himself over to pleasure.

He’s fairly certain John has absolutely no idea of what is happening within the walls of Sherlock’s bedroom. He continues to chase after Sherlock in the streets of London, continues to make them dinner, continues to sit in his chair and listen happily to Sherlock’s violin. Two months and thirteen days pass, and Sherlock accepts the simple fact that he’s in love.

“Before you lock yourself in there,” John suddenly says, standing up from his chair and coming to the sofa, one finger pointing at Sherlock’s forehead, “Remember I have the night shift.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes, “Why do you keep insisting you need a job?”

“Because I’ll go crazy otherwise,” John laughs and stares down at him for several seconds without saying a word. He sighs, “I’ll leave right after diner. You’re eating?”

Sherlock shakes his head and John doesn’t push it. Sherlock listens absently for a few moments, reveling in the familiarity of John moving around the kitchen, before closing his eyes again. He knows he should wait for John to leave and preferably go to his room, but the shivers running from his fingers to his neck prevent him from moving. He has been wanting to add this new data to his mind palace for days, and John will be gone soon enough for him to relieve the pressure afterwards.

Pushing open the door of Room 89, Sherlock inhales deeply and begins to rate each toy he has acquired in the past months.

The riding machine (rate: 10/10) 

    * Made this entire experiment much easier. Practical and easy to conceal, the machine has allowed me to test each toy without occupying my hands.
    * Side effect: I have discovered the high sensitivity of both my nipples (especially the right).
    * Can be placed on different surfaces: bed, floor, chair.
    * Allows me stimulate prostate more easily with each new dildo.


  * __Most noticeable facts_ : sore thighs after each session; makes it easier to imagine John penetrating me;  _



Vibrating toys (rate: 9/10) 

    * Prostate stimulation improved considerably.
    * Vibrating dildos aren’t as efficient as smaller vibrating toys. The latter are easier to push in and rub against my prostate.
    * Discovered that a light vibration is more enjoyable, especially when I plan to use another toy to achieve orgasm.


  * __Most noticeable facts_ : some come with a remote control; _



Dildo based on John’s measurement (rate: 8/10) 

    * After further investigation, the dildo probably isn’t thick enough.
    * The initial stretch was at first challenging, but none of the dildos I own make me feel as full as this one does.
    * When combined with the riding machine, the fantasies almost bring me to orgasm without any additional stimulation.


  * __Most noticeable facts_ : has greatly augmented the need to have sex with John._ 



Sherlock takes a step backwards, looking at the new notes pinned on the wall. He has gone back to the same shop twice already, and the owner is starting to know him. Sherlock still listens to his advice, and is currently waiting for a special order the man has assured him he would love. Sherlock closes his eyes, feeling the first tremor of arousal building low in his body. He still needs to store away his fantasies, and he won’t be able to focus if he starts to-

“Sherlock?”

Sherlock jumps with surprise, eyes snapping open, and he rolls to his side quickly. His erection is still quite visible through his pants, so Sherlock curls himself on the sofa as John comes to stop in front of him again.

“Everything’s alright?”

Sherlock nods, “Fine.”

“I put some leftovers in the fridge, just in case.” He stops but Sherlock refuses to look at him, not yet. He keeps his eyes shut tightly. “Anyway, I’m going now. Try to get some sleep at least.” Sherlock doesn’t reply but hears John chuckle before saying, “See you tomorrow morning, then.”

Sherlock waits until he hears the door closing, and then another five minutes just in case, before rolling to his back again. He stares at the ceiling, exhaling deeply. Sherlock has exactly fourteen different fantasies stored away that take place in the living room, and getting caught with an erection is number five.  Sighing loudly, Sherlock gets to his feet, one hand already rubbing at his clothed erection. He is still surprised sometimes to realise just how much he likes sex, or at least, what he knows of it. Previously masturbation had been more an inconvenience than anything else, but now it is something Sherlock enjoyed and gladly indulges in.

The reason why is obvious, of course.

Not bothering to close his door, Sherlock heads to the wardrobe and removes the fake bottom. He stares at the different toys, the riding machine already in hand, and choses the last one he bought. Lean, thick enough and lightly pink, Sherlock has been wondering if he could take it all inside himself ever since he bought it. Smiling, he hooks the dildo to the machine before setting it on the center of the bed.

He starts slow, undressing before lying down with the bottle of lube in hand. For the past few weeks, Sherlock has been exploring his own body slowly, trying to know himself more. So far, Sherlock had discovered a simple touch over his neck could send thrill of shiver down his spine. A graze a nails against his collarbone and down to his nipples makes his erection pulse and his legs shake with anticipation. Rubbing his nipples between two fingers always makes his hips thrust up in their own violation, and leaves him panting.

It is usually at this point that Sherlock pushes his fingers inside himself, moaning softly at the now familiar sensation. Despite being used to the toys, Sherlock continues to use his fingers at first, sometimes finding new sensitive spots, sometimes only teasing his prostate until he can’t resist any longer. But today, Sherlock is already out of breath, desperate for more, and he adds two fingers at once, pushing them deep enough to arch his back on the bed.

“Hmm,” he moans, thrusting them in and out for a little longer before rising to his knees. He pours some lube directly on the dildo, spreading it over the shaft with one hand before settling above the machine. Bracing himself on his two hands, Sherlock bears down slowly on the dildo, head thrown back in pleasure.

It feels as if the dildo is never ending, and the moment the head hits his prostate, taking him completely by surprise, Sherlock can’t help but cry out loudly, John’s name escaping his lips. He’s already picturing John’s hands on his hips, his breath hot against his neck and his erection filling him. Sherlock lets go of the sheets, staying perfectly still on the toy before rising himself just enough to leave just the head inside him. He rolls his hips, both hands roaming over his chest and his neck as he arches his head back.

 _You feel so good, Sherlock_.

“John, yes.” Sherlock begins to ride the dildo slowly, thighs already burning with the effort. He gets lost in the fantasy, John’s hands now leaving marks on his skin as he watches Sherlock riding him. John loves to watch, that much Sherlock is certain. John is a passionate lover, he takes cares of the person he makes love to, and Sherlock wants nothing more but the be the subject of such adoration.

Sherlock can feel his orgasm approaching quickly, the dildo nudging his prostate with each thrust down. For a moment, Sherlock is certain he’s going to come without having to touch himself. The fantasy of John’s body pressed against his, of his words whispered in his ear making it hard to focus on anything else, but his fingers are closing over his erection before he can think twice about it.

“Oh, god, John, yes,” Sherlock pants, his hands moving fast on his erection, and his hips slamming down on the machine. He’s too lost already, unaware of anything else but the pleasure reaching his peak as he cries out John’s name and spills over his own hand. Waves of pleasure still washing over him, Sherlock lets himself fall down on the mattress, a soft moan escaping him as the dildo slips out of him.

It takes exactly 49 seconds for Sherlock to notice he’s not alone anymore, and 2 more to realise it is John standing in the doorway. Pulling the sheets around him as fast he can, Sherlock turns his back to him, heart pounding and cheeks burning as he says harshly, “Go away.”

Sherlock doesn’t need to look at him to know John is still there, watching him. A shiver runs through his body, feeling John’s stare on him, reminding him John had seen him come shouting his name just minutes ago. “Please, go.”

But John’s footsteps echo inside the room, getting closer until he’s standing in front of the bed. Sherlock keeps his eyes fixed on the mattress. Of all the fantasies that had played in his mind, none of them had featured such a harsh feeling of shame.

“Sherlock,” John whispers, and Sherlock’s head snaps up as he reads the bare arousal in his voice. Without a word being exchanged, they both stare at each other for several seconds. Sherlock allows himself to face the facts before him. John’s eyes are wide, his breathing ragged and his trousers tented from the erection trapped underneath. “You-”

John stops, his tongue darting out to wet his lips and Sherlock’s eyes follow the movement hungrily. He is still on his knees, the sheets wrapped firmly around him, and yet, he has never felt more exposed. The next time John speaks, his voice is barely a whisper in the room, “I thought you didn't-”

Sherlock swallows slowly, “Didn't what?”

John’s eyes find his, “I thought you didn't want this.”

Dozens of questions run through Sherlock’s head, but only one breaches his lips, “Didn't want sex?” He's been obsessing over this since the beginning, since he had deduced how much sex was important to John, and suddenly, Sherlock realises he had been dying to know whether John would have wanted him, sex or not.

“No,” John breathes, “Didn't want me.”

Sherlock’s breath catches and he rises to his knees, the sheet falling over his naked shoulders. “That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard,” he says, John’s lips twitch into a smile. “How could I not want you?”

John breathes out loudly, “You said, that first dinner, you said you considered yourself married to your work. You always criticize other people’s relationship. You never showed any signs.”

“I had no idea myself,” Sherlock confesses, his heart pounding in his ears from John’s proximity, “You showed up and suddenly I was seeing things differently. I was af-” Sherlock stops, blushing again as he looks away, but John’s hand cups his face, forcing Sherlock to look back at him.

“You were what?” John asks, stepping closer, his knees hitting the bedframe, “Tell me.”

Sherlock searches his eyes, searches his face, along the lines around his eyes to the tracing of his lips, but only finds true concern and something more _heated_ , “I was afraid.” Sherlock sees John tense, his hand falling by his side but Sherlock hurries to take it between his own, “Not of you,” he says quickly, “I was afraid of my own- my own inexperience in this matter.”

John frowns before glancing at the machine still on the bed, and Sherlock is quite certain he’s blushing again, “But this-”

“Experiment,” Sherlock cuts in. “I wanted to be ready.”

John looks back at him, breathing in deeply before asking, “Ready for what?”

Sherlock considers his next words for a long moment, knowing they might upset both of their worlds entirely, but he is smiling when he finally says, “For you.”

The following three seconds are the longest of Sherlock’s life before John is crashing their bodies together, forcing Sherlock on his back as he kisses him. Sherlock manoeuvres his arms free from the sheet, already desperate for more, and runs his fingers through John’s short hair, applying more pressure to the kiss. It’s nothing like he’d remembered, nothing like the four chaste, quick kisses he had shared with stranger. This is John.

“God, Sherlock,” John pants when they part, breathing each other’s air. Sherlock stares up at him, panting, and sees the reflexion of his own desire shining in John’s eyes. “God, you have no idea how much I want this, how much I want you.”

Sherlock can’t help but whimper at the words, his body reacting to John’s body pressed against his. He had come not five minutes ago, but his penis is hardening already. John kisses him again, threading his fingers inside Sherlock’s hair and pulling just enough for Sherlock to cry out into the kiss. This is new.

“Fuck, watching you ride this thing,” John growls, eyes dark, his tongue tracing Sherlock’s lower lip slowly, “Getting ready for me.”

“Yes,” Sherlock pants, “You.”

“Fuck,” John curses again before kissing him. Sherlock is already certain he won’t be able to spend another day without kissing John Watson. “When did you-” John asks, still out of breath.

“Shortly after you moved in,” Sherlock confesses, “In case you tried to flirt with me again. I wanted to be able to give you what you wanted.”

This seems to make John slow down, and he looks at Sherlock for a long moment before saying, “You have to understand, even if you didn't do this, even if you didn't like that sort of thing, I would still be madly in love with you.”

Sherlock feels himself smile, unable to put a name on the feeling taking over his mind and body, so he leans up and captures John’s lips in a softer kiss, taking the time to learn John’s lips by heart. He isn’t sure who moves first, but slowly John’s clothes are landing on the floor and the sheet still covering his shaking body is pushed away. Sherlock is torn between the need for more and the want to discover every inch of John’s body, but in the end, John decides for the both of them by locking their hips together and thrusting against Sherlock’s body.

“Oh, god, John,” Sherlock moans at the feeling of John’s erection (much larger than he had thought) sliding against his own. Unknown sensations are rolling over him, making him gasp and writhe inside John’s arms. “John, _John_.”

“How many?” John asks, panting, and it takes a few seconds for Sherlock to understand what he’s asking.

“Seven,” he breathes out, “I’ve tried them all.”

“Oh, fuck,” John moans, grinding himself more firmly against him, “Here?”

Sherlock nods, biting his lower lip. He had no idea sex with someone else could feel like this. It’s as if he is surrendering to John entirely, trusting him with everything he is. Sherlock has never felt safer.

“I want to watch you ride all of them,” John breathes against his lips, and Sherlock whimpers. “Did you imagine it was me, fucking you?”

Sherlock nods again, “Yes, yes.”

“Oh christ, Sherlock, you were gorgeous. I couldn’t take my eyes of you.” John slides both hands down his sides and hips, tracing the lower curve of his arse as he pushes Sherlock’s hips higher. Sherlock complies quickly, the muscles of his arsehole twitching. “Are you still open for me?” He asks, one finger already rubbing at Sherlock’s still lubed entrance before pushing in, making them both moan loudly. “Oh god.”

Sherlock is more than ready for him now, but John takes his time slide his fingers one by one inside him, stretching his already loose hole, and Sherlock enjoys every second of it. John’s fingers are shorter than his, but he finds Sherlock’s prostate quickly, making Sherlock arch on the bed.

“John, John, please,” he whimpers, already rocking back on John’s fingers.

“Christ, yes,” John pants, shaking his head, “Do you have-”

“Here,” Sherlock cuts in, handing him the bottle of lube but John frowns. “What?”

“Condom?”

Sherlock feels something build in his chest at the thought of plastic between him and John, and he quickly replies, “I’m clean, completely clean. You?” He sees John’s internal fight in his eyes, and Sherlock reaches for him, sealing their lips again. “We don’t need one, John.”

John continues to kiss him for several seconds before nodding, pulling his fingers out and Sherlock whimpers at the loss. But then, John is sitting back on his heels, lubing his erection and Sherlock can’t look away. John’s penis is actually quite close to the dildo Sherlock had molded, except maybe for the circumference, and Sherlock feels the irresistible urge to taste.

“Ok?” John asks, forcing Sherlock to look back at him.

Sherlock nods, taking a deep breath as John guides himself between his arse cheeks. Sherlock cants his hips a little higher, taking him in and his back arches when the head of John’s erection slides in. Sherlock is used to the intrusion now, and yet, this feels entirely new. He can feel every vein of John’s erection, feel it pulse inside him as John continues to push in, and Sherlock wonders if John would agree to remain inside him forever.

“Sherlock, god, Sherlock,” John pants, eyes glancing to his face before looking back at his erection disappearing inside Sherlock. Sherlock keeps his own eyes fixed on John’s face, watching in awe as he can see his every emotion there.

John lies back on top of him once he's fully inside him, remaining still as they kiss and kiss again, until Sherlock is the one rocking back. John smiles into the kiss and starts to drive into him slowly, taking his time and making Sherlock lose his mind just as slowly. Nothing could have prepared him to the feeling of John sliding in and out of him, and the moment John pulls out to roll to his back and let Sherlock straddles his lap, Sherlock knows this moment will be engraved to his memory for a very, very long time.

“ _John,_ ” he moans as he bears down on his erection, undulating his hips tentatively until he finds his prostate. “John!”

“Yes, yes,” John groans, “Like this.”

Sherlock braces both hands over John’s chest and begins to slam his hips up and down on John’s erection. He can’t help the moan and gasps escaping him, but John is making just as much noise, and Sherlock is drunk on each sound. He is already feeling his orgasm building when John starts to thrust up inside him, the sound of their bodies coming together echoing in the bedroom. Sherlock’s orgam takes them both completely by surprise, his semen landing on John’s chest without a single touch to his penis, “Oh fuck, Sherlock, that was amazing. So fucking gorgeous.”

John is still pounding into him, and Sherlock’s body is contracting around him, each brush against his prostate making his body twitch with oversensitivity. He lowers himself on top of John just enough to kiss him, and after just a few more thrusts, John is coming inside him, his cries caught inside Sherlock’s mouth. They continue to kiss lazily for several minutes, John still buried inside him, but soon John is rolling them both to their side, slipping out.

“I love you,” John murmurs against his lips and Sherlock allows himself to say it back, kissing John’s smile. He’s not sure how long they remain like this, close and kissing, but just when Sherlock is about to fall asleep, he asks, “And your nightshift?”

John laughs, kissing his forehead before saying, “Don’t worry about that, we’ll have time to talk later.”

Sherlock nods, yawning, “You’re not leaving, hm?”

“No,” John whispers, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sherlock falls asleep, John’s arms keeping him close.

**

**Room 89b - sex and John.**

_West wall - John’s reaction to the toys._

  * John loves the toys (really, really loves them).
  * As promised, John has made me ride each of them over the past few months, not letting me come until he was the one fucking me.
  * I’ve discovered that John also likes to catch me using them (I might start a new experiment based on that only).
  * John has began to offer me now toys now, ones I didn't know about. Clearly, he has more knowledge about this matter than I do.
  * Upon discovering the mold I had made for his penis, John had laughed and agreed to have another made. I should receive it today. Surely John will like to come home tonight and find me occupied with it in our bedroom.



**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comment are really appreciated :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Cover Art] for Room 89: Sex by Salambo06](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9532940) by [justacookieofacumberbatch (buffyholic)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffyholic/pseuds/justacookieofacumberbatch)




End file.
